VENOMOUS SERPENTS.

⁂ We have received the following interesting communication from a

gentleman who has spent much of a valuable life in Africa.

The serpents of South Africa, commonly accounted the most dangerous, are

the Cobra-Capello, (or hooded snake,) the Puff-Adder, and the Berg-Adder

(or mountain snake.) The first of these is exceedingly fierce and

active, and sometimes, it is said, attains the formidable length of ten

feet; I have, however, never met with any of much more than half that

size. The Cobra has been known to spring at a man on horseback, and to

dart himself with such force as to overshoot his aim. The Puff-Adder, on

the other hand, is a heavy and sluggish animal, very thick in proportion

to its length, and incapable, when attacked in front, of projecting

itself upon its enemy. To make amends, however, it possesses the faculty

of throwing itself backward with perilous and unexpected effect; but its

disposition is inert, and unless accidentally trod upon or otherwise

provoked, it will seldom attack mankind. The Berg-Adder, though much

smaller in size than either of the preceding, is generally considered

not less deadly, and it is the more dangerous from its being less easily

discovered and avoided.

During a residence of six years in the interior of the Cape Colony, and

in the course of various journeys through the interior, (extending to

upwards of three thousand miles,) I have met with a considerable number

of snakes; yet I do not recollect of ever being exposed, except in one

instance, to any imminent hazard of being bit by any of them. On the

occasion referred to I was superintending some Hottentots, whom I had

employed to clear away a patch of thicket from a spot selected for

cultivation, when one of the men, suddenly recoiling, with signs of

great alarm, exclaimed that there was a Cobra-Capello in the bush. Not

being at that time fully aware of the dangerous character of this

species of snake, I approached to look at him. The Hottentots called out

to me to take care, for he was going to spring. Before they had well

spoken, or I had caught a view of the reptile, I heard him hiss

fiercely, and then dart himself towards me amidst the underwood. At the

same instant, instinctively springing backward to avoid him, I fell over

a steep bank into the dry stony bed of a torrent; by which I suffered

some severe bruises, but fortunately escaped the more formidable danger

to which I had too incautiously exposed myself. The Hottentots then

assailed the snake with sticks and stones, and forced him (though not

before he had made another spring and missed one of them still more

narrowly than myself) to take refuge up a mimosa tree. Here he became a

safe and easy mark to their missiles, and was speedily beaten down, with

a broken back, and consequently rendered incapable of farther mischief.

The Hottentots having cut off his head, carefully buried it in the

ground, a practice which they never omit on such occasions, and which

arises from their apprehension of some one incautiously treading on the

head of the dead snake, and sustaining injury from its fangs; for they

believe that the deathful virus, far from being extinguished with life,

retains its fatal energy for weeks, and even months afterwards. This

snake measured nearly six feet in length, and was the largest Cobra I

have met with.

My little Hottentot corporal, Piet (or Peter) Spandilly, who assisted in

killing this Cobra, had a still narrower escape from a small but

venomous snake of which I have forgotten the colonial appellation. Piet

and his men (six soldiers of the Cape corps, placed at that time under

my direction for the protection of our remote settlement against the

Caffres) slept in a tent adjoining to mine, pitched in a grove of

mimosas on the brink of the Bavian’s river; and one morning when he rose

from his couch of dry grass, Piet felt some living creature moving about

his thigh in the inside of his leathern trowsers. Thinking it was only

one of the harmless lizards which swarm in every part of South Africa,

he did not at first much mind it, but came out to the open air laughing,

and shaking his limb to dislodge the vermin. But when a black wriggling

snake came tumbling down about his naked ancles, poor Spandilly uttered

a cry of horror, kicked the reptile off, springing at the same moment

nearly his own height from the ground; and though he had in reality

sustained no injury, could scarcely for some time be persuaded that he

was not “a gone man.”

It is, in fact, from apprehensions of danger, or the instinct of

self-defence, far more than from any peculiar fierceness or innate

malignity, that the serpent race ever assail man or any of the larger

animals. They turn, of course, against the foot that tramples or the

hand that threatens them; but happily nature has not armed them, in

addition to their formidable powers of destruction, with the disposition

of exerting these powers from motives of mere wanton cruelty, or for

purposes unconnected with their own subsistence or security. Were it

otherwise, countries like the Cape would be altogether uninhabitable. As

it is, the annoyance experienced from the numerous poisonous snakes is

not such as, on the whole, to affect in any considerable degree the

comfort of those accustomed to them.

Conversing on this subject one day with my friend Captain Harding, who

had been for many years a resident and magistrate in the interior, I

inquired whether he had ever, in the course of his campaigns on the

Caffer and Bushman frontiers, and when necessarily obliged to sleep in

the desert or jungle in the open air, suffered injury or incurred danger

from serpents--he replied, that the only occasion he recollected of

incurring any great hazard of this sort, was the following:--

“Being upon a military expedition across the frontier,” said he, “I had

slept one night, as usual, wrapt in my cloak, beneath a tree. On awaking

at daybreak, the first object I perceived on raising my head from the

saddle, which served for my pillow, was the tail of an enormous

Puff-Adder lying across my breast, the head of the reptile being muffled

under the folds of the cloak close to my body, whither it had betaken

itself, apparently for warmth, during the chillness of the night. There

was extreme hazard that if I alarmed it by moving, it might bite me in a

vital part;--seizing it therefore softly by the tail, I pulled it out

with a sudden jerk, and threw it violently to a distance. By this means

I escaped without injury; but had I happened to have unwittingly

offended this uninvited bedfellow before I was aware of his presence, I

might in all probability have fatally atoned for my heedlessness.”

It is not very unusual for snakes of various sorts to be found in the

houses at the Cape, nor does it, in ordinary cases, excite any violent

alarm when such inmates are discovered. They make their way both through

the roofs and under the walls, in search of food and shelter, and

especially in pursuit of mice, which many of them chiefly subsist upon.

During my residence in the interior, however, I recollect only two

instances of their being found in my own cabin. On one of these

occasions I had sent a servant girl (a bare-legged Hottentot) to bring

me some article from a neighbouring hut. It was after night-fall; and on

returning with it, she cried out before entering the cabin--“Oh,

Mynheer! Mynheer! what shall I do? A snake has twined itself round my

ancles, and if I open the door he will come into the house.” “Never

mind,” I replied. “open the door, and let him come if he dare.” She

obeyed, and in glided the snake, luckily without having harmed the poor

girl. I stood prepared and instantly smote him dead; and afterwards

found him to be one of the very venomous sort called _Nachtslang_.

People get used to these things, and even Europeans by degrees come to

regard them with much indifference. Just before leaving the colony, I

spent a week or two with my friend Major Pigot, at his residence near

Graham’s Town; and going one day to take a book from some shelves in the

drawing-room, I found a beautiful yellow snake, about five feet long,

lying asleep upon the uppermost range of books. It lay so still that I

at first thought it was a stuffed specimen; but perceiving a slight

movement in its tail, I lent him such a thwack with a quarto volume as

broke the poor fellow’s back, and enabled me to demolish him at my

leisure. I afterwards learned that another snake had been killed a few

days previously in the very same spot, and a third in Major P.’s

dressing-room. They had all entered through a loop-hole which had

casually been left open, and apparently had no other object in coming

there (mousing apart) than literary seclusion.

Such as these are no very uncommon occurrences, and as such pass even

for subjects of jocularity amidst the adventures of a wild country.

Instances, however, both frightful and revolting, sometimes occur.

It is well known that the Bushmen, a tribe of wild Hottentots who

inhabit the mountains and deserts of South Africa, imbue the points of

their arrows in a strong and subtle poison, and that the venom of the

most dangerous serpents to be found in that country forms a principal

ingredient in its composition. The boldness and dexterity displayed by

these wild huntsmen, and by many also of the colonial Hottentots, in

searching out and seizing alive the formidable Cobra-Capello and

Puff-Adder, are truly astonishing. Still more surprising is it to

witness the snake-hunter extracting from the yet living and writhing

reptile, held fast by his naked foot planted on its neck, the little bag

containing the secreted venom, which the rage of the animal injects into

the wound made by its fangs at the moment it strikes its victim--to see

him take this, and fearlessly drink its contents, as school-boys in

England would suck the blob of the honey-bee! The swallowing of this

venom, they conceive, renders them in time proof against its deleterious

effects, when it is brought into immediate contact with the blood,

whether by the bite of a snake or the barb of an arrow.

[Illustration: Cobra-Capello.]

Several of the most respectable Dutch colonists assured me, as a fact

which had come within their own knowledge, that there are to be found

among the wandering Bushmen persons whom they term _slang-meesters_

(snake-masters,) who actually possess the power of charming the fiercest

serpents, and of readily curing their bite; and who pretend that they

can communicate to others their mysterious powers and invulnerability,

by putting them through a regular course of _poison-eating_.

The more usual object, however, of the Bushman in catching serpents

(exclusive of their value to him as an article of food,) is to procure

poison for his arrows. The animal venom, too thin and volatile to

preserve its efficacy long unimpaired when used alone, is skilfully

concocted into a black glutinous consistency, by the admixture of

powerful vegetable and mineral poisons; the former being generally the

juice of the root of a species of amaryllis, called by the boors, from

this circumstance, the _gift-bol_, or poison-bulb; the latter, a

bituminous or unctuous substance which is said to exude from certain

rocks and caverns. With this deadly mixture the dwarfish and despised

African anoints the desperate weapons with which he resists (though

unavailingly) the aggressions of the colonists, and sometimes cruelly

revenges the injuries they have inflicted.

---------------------

The penny magazine of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, issue 29, September 15, 1832 · 第 6 / 13 题